LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS

Since I was a toddler I had always been known as a very shy kid. I would never talk around people I don’t see every day. It would take me an unusual amount of time to warm up to people, even people that I knew pretty well. If I hadn’t seen them for a while it would be like meeting them for the first time all over again. Talking to people, even only one on one, always felt like a performance to me, and public speaking being one of my biggest fears, made conversations terrifying. Unfortunately, conversations with people are pretty much inevitable.

My selective mutism became much more apparent in school, especially once I began the sixth grade. The difference between the sixth grade and later grades compared to earlier grades was the fact that I had different kids in each of my classes. In elementary school, I had one class of kids for every single subject, but in sixth grade, and on, each subject had a different class of kids. That’s five separate classes with five completely different groups of kids. Then in high school not only did I have different people in every class, but I also had a different class schedule for each day. One or two hours every day or so was not nearly enough time for me to become used to being around these different people, and having to adjust to a new group of peers four to seven times a day was even more terrifying.

Now to explain what selective mutism feels like for me. My selective mutism is connected to my social anxiety disorder. Selective mutism feels like one of those nightmares where I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out and I can’t make any noise. It kind of feels like my voice is in shock. That is the best way I can describe it. I have so much to say, but I’m so overwhelmed by the people around me that I just shut down. I think a lot of the problem stems from my fear of judgement from others and the idea that my what I have to say is worthless, which IS NOT TRUE. It feels very lonely when everyone around me is participating and interacting with each other and I see the joy it brings them, and how much fun everyone is having, but I can’t help but shut down. It can be a bit depressing. I end up feeling left out a lot. At times, I hope that someone will just subtly start up a conversation with me in hopes that it will snap me out of my petrification, but sometimes that freaks me out even more. I so desire to be the life of the party and entertain everyone.

Having selective mutism in school was really tough. Nobody had any idea that I was struggling with selective mutism. Everyone just thought I was being difficult, or that I was just really quiet. I would never raise my hand in class, but teachers would still call on me. They would get frustrated with me because I literally wouldn’t say anything, I would only shrug until they would give up and move on to someone else. Any presentation I had to do would be utter torture for weeks. I usually would be able to get out enough words, but I would practically be whispering. It would feel very hard to breath when I would speak during a presentation, almost like I had just gotten the wind knocked out of me.

My teachers would always tell my parents how quiet I was in class during parent teacher conferences and on report cards. I always did very poorly in participation. It also made it impossible for me to ask for help with school work when I really needed it. It did get better though, as most things do. In high school, because of these struggles, I was excused from having to participate in presentations and speaking in class. No more worrying about teachers calling on me. Eventually, as I became much more comfortable with my classes, teachers and classmates, I made it my goal to complete a presentation before I graduated. For my senior English final, I got up in front of a full classroom with two close friends and I spoke clearly and confidently. I was terrified, but so proud of myself. My English teacher was proud of me too, and she told my class that seeing me up in front of the whole class was the best part of the year for her. It felt unbelievable to know that she truly saw me, and wanted so much for me to succeed. I still struggle with selective mutism at times, but it’s much easier to handle. I now have conversations with strangers all of the time. Instead of dwelling on what they may think of me and worrying about if I’ll ever see them again, I think of the next time I see them as a brand-new chance to do even better, and if I never see them again I have nothing to lose.

-KAM